


Black Heart

by Lautari



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-17
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 19:01:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29514321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lautari/pseuds/Lautari
Summary: Ten years after the events of Breaking Dawn, Sam Uley is faced with fate and heartbreak. (Companion story to Whatever Souls Are Made Of)
Relationships: Leah Clearwater & Seth Clearwater, Leah Clearwater/Sam Uley, Sam Uley/Emily Young
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

_“Sam?”_

_The young man turned automatically. His gaze wasn’t angry or sad. Just empty. His dark eyes, always purposeful and intense, were now voids. He stood guard over Seth’s body all night not allowing anyone to touch the boy. In the aftermath whole counting their losses, he had searched for the boy. Seth had returned to human form in death, his sightless eyes gazing at the heavens. His neck was distorted from the rest of his naked form, and even in Alice Cullen’s own deep grief, the young wolf’s death did something to her that the death of her family didn’t._

_She had been the first to find Seth, only moments before a deep howl shook her and the black coated alpha rushed past her, phasing as he ran, sliding in and collapsing on top of Seth, and pulling him to his chest. Human again, his howls of pain were still inhuman before subsiding into soft, keening sobs, muffled for burying his face in the boy’s neck._

_Jared and Embry phased in one fluid motion, coming from the other end of the open field. “I’m going to Paul,” Embry said rushing past to the other fallen wolf, currently writhing on the ground in pain, covered by the sweater Emmett had stripped off in and lain over him. Jared knew Paul would be dead by morning. Garrett shrugged out of his heavy jacket and gingerly draped it over Sam who barely noticed. The vampire gave Jared a nod but remained silent. He’d seen the death of too many comrades, young ones, to be moved but he understood._

_Jared nodded gratefully. “Sam,” he whispered. “Let me.”_

_Sam snarled and Garrett and Alice took a step back, but Jared only crouched. “He has to be taken home.”_

_Sam pulled away. “Where’s Leah?”_

_Jared’s eyes flitted to Alice nervously, but his hand squeezed Sam’s shoulder. “She’s gone. We can’t reach her.”_

_Sam gently laid Seth back on the ground and stroked his cheek. He stood and shoved between Alice and Garrett, letting the coat drop. He was headed for the fissure. “Sam, no.” Jared chased and jumped in front of him. “No.”_

_Sam shoved him again, but Jared dug his heels in and grasped both arms. “Think of Sue, think of the tribe, think of Emily.”_

_That stopped him, but his eyes looked through Jared. He merely turned and went back to Seth, dropping to his knees beside him. He had stayed there, for hours, a dusting of snow falling on his shoulders and hair, now clutching Garrett’s jacket tightly around his body. All the movements around him, the piles of burning vampire bodies hadn’t cause him to move until now._

_Alice crouched next to him whispered, “Sam, I’m so sorry.”_

_He looked over his shoulder to the crack in the earth, where Leah was gone, far from his reach. “Why am I here? Why am I back here?”_

_The dark haired vampire clasped her hands together. “I don’t know. But I believe there’s a trial on the way for you.”_

Sam snapped awake, gasping. He was home. In bed. Emily still sleeping soundly at his side. He relaxed, laying back against the pillows. He didn’t have to look at the clock to know the time. For the past three nights the same dream had woken him at 2:00 am. Silently slipping out of bed, he crept across the hardwood floor to the steps. He hadn’t had the dream in ten years, since their confrontation with the Volturi. At the time, he took it as just that, a dream; a culmination of battle jitters and the drama unfolding in his personal life.

Now he feared it was so much more.

Or perhaps bad dreams were only rearing their ugly heads now that his mother was gone. His eyes burned, and he wiped at them furiously, battling the grief. Her sudden loss had rocked him. He slid the door open to the porch and stepped out, exhaling deeply. The night was humid, but it was still cooler outside. He peered through the trees intently, listening hard. All was quiet. His heartbeat had returned to normal, but the crushing grief was still there, under his ribcage, for his mother and for the Clearwaters.

They were home.

Sue had moved in with Charlie Swan years ago, but Seth still lived in the little house as a member of the tribal police force. Leah was living in Spokane, working as a nurse. Paul and Rachel had moved there several years ago as well. He knew she was home the moment she stepped foot on the rez earlier in the evening, but that was an aspect of pack leader he kept to himself, not wanting the wolves to feel invaded. He knew though, and it had stopped him in his tracks and caused him to turn and look for her.

He hadn’t really spoken to her in years. The last time was…well, the confrontation with the Volturi. Maybe that was what was triggering the dreams. It was August, but the same cold was seeping into his bones.

_The bonfire was subdued. There was no moon, and the clouds hid the starts. It was just the pack. Sam had sent Emily back to Neah Bay and the other boys followed his lead. Most of them wanted loved ones out of the crossfire, and they’d left, but hesitantly. Sue Clearwater had been the hardest to move, knowing that something was coming, and refused to leave her children for a fishing trip with Charlie Swan. It had taken Sam._

_“I don’t know what’s going on, but if you can’t convince me to go.”_

_“Sue, I love you, but if you don’t go, I will tie you up myself and put you in Charlie’s truck.”_

_“My son is fifteen!”_

_“I know.” He did indeed. “But do this for him. This is truly out of your hands. You can’t help them with this.”_

_She finally relented, clasping Leah’s hands desperately the morning after Christmas. “Take care of my children,” she told him, standing off to the side._

_Now, Leah sat alone on a piece of driftwood apart from the rest of them, long legs stretched out, back straight. She had a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, protecting her against the cold she no longer felt. Sam and followed her gaze to Paul and Rachel earlier in the day, while they said their goodbye. Rachel had shivered and Paul pulled her close and shed his jacket they he wore for more appearance than anything else. Leah had winced when he’d put it around Rachel’s shoulders and rubbed her arms. She missed being a woman, being a human with someone who wanted her, and it isolated her even more from the other wolves._

_Sam stood and Jared watched warily, but it was Paul who spoke, “Leave her be.”_

_Sam turned and eyes glowed. “This is business.”_

_“It’s never just business.”_

_“It is when we’ve got a horde of vampires heading our direction. The world doesn’t stop spinning.”_

_Paul said no more, but Sam knew he was listening. He lowered himself down on the log next to her. And knew she’d just come back from a run because her hair smelled like pine. He studied her for a moment. He hadn’t seen her in much since she’d joined Jacob’s pack. She looked healthy and peaceful._

_“Thank you for convincing my mother to leave,” she said first._

_He raised an eyebrow surprised. “Of course.”_

_“If something happens to me, take care of Seth,” she continued. “And if something happens to both of us, take care of my mother.”_

_Sam opened his mouth to argue but closed it, giving a sideways glance to the group. “Si c’est faux,” he whispered in the broken French they learned together in high school. He knew they weren’t safe speaking in English or Quileute, knowing the others were listening. “Je veux que tu coures. Toi et ton frere.”_

_(If it’s wrong, I want you to run. You and your brother.)_

_She glared at him. “I’m not leaving.”_

_“Leah-“_

_“You’re not expecting the same of everyone else.”_

_“You’re not everyone else,” he snapped._

_Silence followed, before Leah said softly, “I’m not in your pack.”_

_To that he had no response. They simply sat quietly, shoulders brushing, listening to the crackle of the logs and the crashing waves._

“Sam?”

He jumped, spinning around. Emily was at the bottom of the steps to the loft, wearing one of his t shirts. “You okay?” she yawned.

“Yeah.” He stepped back inside, sliding the door shut behind him. “Yeah, it’s just a little stuffy.”

“Dreams again?” she asked softly, allowing him to wrap her in a hug.

“No,” he lied. “Just…”

He trailed off and she touched his cheek sympathetically. “I know burying your mother today was hard. I can put off going home.”

“No. It’s your cousin’s college send off.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll be fine.”

Emily raised an eyebrow as if she didn’t believe him, but only tugged his hand. “Come back to bed.”


	2. Chapter 2

The thunder was distant, but it warned of a storm brewing off the coast. It gave Sam the chance to be broody and sit with in his childhood home, alone and silent, while parsing through his mother’s belongings. Her death had been so sudden, dishes were left in the sink, and food still in the fridge. Leftover stew from when he and Emily had visited her just a week ago still sat in a bowl. He was dumping the contents into the trash when he heard soft footsteps on the back steps.

“Sam?”

His throat caught. She was always able to catch him off guard. He wasn’t surprised she was here though. She had loved Allison and Allison had loved her. He turned to face her slowly. She was on the other side of the screen door waiting for permission. He pushed the door open for her, his eyes never leaving her face; extraordinarily little about her had changed. Her hair was longer, held back by bobby pins. Maybe a little creasing around her eyes, but it just added to her loveliness. It also meant she had been smiling. They’d only seen each other a few times over the years, mostly from a distance over holidays or festivities, a nod or hello. She was sizing him up as well, and he knew he was still very much the same. Phasing held age at bay, but he also remembered they were still so young. It had only been ten years since the last time they had stood in this kitchen alone, but he felt as if he’d aged a lifetime.

“Leah,” he finally whispered.

“I’m sorry to intrude, but I saw your truck. I was driving to-home. I just wanted to pay my respects.”

“No, please come in,” he said, letting her in completely. “I was just sorting through some stuff.”

They stood for a moment, unsure, but Leah spoke first. “Sam, I’m so sorry.”

Tears stung his eyes, but he nodded. “Yeah.” He beckoned her. “C’mon, Mom actually left a box for you.”

Leah’s eyes it up and she followed him down the hall. “I’m sorry I didn’t make it for the funeral.”

He waved her off. “Believe me, if I didn’t have to be there, I wouldn’t have been.” He pulled a box out of his mother’s closet and set it on the bed. “I didn’t know she had this, but it seems right.”

Leah traced her fingers over her name written in marker in Allison’s familiar scrawl and pressed a hand to her mouth. Sam blinked and looked away. He’d already looked through the box as wrong as it might be. “Hey, you want to stay for dinner? I’ve got beer and fish.”

0000000000

Leah set her bottle down and opened the flaps to the box. A little note was on top of the items. 

_“Leah – A few old mementos, for a new beginning. All my love, sweet girl”. -Allison._

She smiled softly and pulled out a handful of doilies. Some were Allison’s, some had been made when Sam and Leah’s future was still on one path. The mug that had been Leah’s when she was a permanent fixture at the Uley home was resting on a quilt. The rim had a little chip from when Sam had snuck up on her when she was washing dishes. She ran her index finger over the now worn edge and caught Sam watching her. He smiled sadly. She cleared her throat and set everything back inside. “Will you and Emily move in now?”

Sam frowned and turned back to the skillet he was frying the fish in. “No. We’re happy where we are.”

Moving into his childhood home had been a plan he’d made for himself and Leah. After college, after they’d had their fill of Seattle, they’d come home. He knew he probably never would’ve finished college, but he missed having options. She’d be the nurse she’d always wanted to be, and he’d make the house a real home. Allison and Leah would’ve cared for the rose bushes that had gone to shit and Allison wouldn’t have died alone from a massive stroke. He blinked away tears again. He couldn’t move in with Emily because this was his home with Leah. Every window he’d snuck out of, every door she’d snuck in through, every surface they’d fucked on, was still tangled up in a separate life. He was blissfully happy with Emily, but he still grieved for what was lost. Would it ever stop? The piece of his soul that existed outside the imprint would always be a little in love with Leah.

A screech of metal and a loud thud against the back porch interrupted his thoughts. The summer storm that moved in earlier while they cleaned fish was strong. Leah rushed to the back door and peered into the darkness. “Damn, a piece of tin from the tree house came loose. It’s in the roses.” She slid into her flip flops and Sam tossed her a flashlight from over the stove. “Be careful.”

Leah cursed under her breath and tossed the tin away. She stooped trying to assess the damage to the roses but stood abruptly and scanned the area. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she sniffed the air. A… _baby’s_ cry pierced the darkness? Frowning, she squinted, trying to see past the tree house into the forest.

Sam’s head shot up immediately, aware of quiet it had become.

“Leah?” he called, knocking on the window over the sink. Frowning, he removed the skillet from the burner and threw the towel into the sink. He opened the back door and looked around. It was pouring, the rain drowning out any noise, but even without enhanced sight, there was no missing the little girl from his dreams all those years ago. The little girl he saw with Leah. He swallowed and blinked, but she remained. She only gazed at him solemnly, before beckoning and turning and disappearing down the path.

Frantic for Leah, he sprang off the porch, but slid to halt. A baby was crying? It was distant and he leapt over logs and through ferns, nearly tripping over her. He right leg was visible under branches. Immediately, he lifted the branch off her. “Leah?”

She groaned.

He shoved the rest of the branches away and brushed needles out of her face and her hair felt sticky, matted from blood. “Leah, come on.”

She groaned again and reached for her head, but he caught her hand. “No, don’t.”

He lifted her in his arms, and she was heavier than he remembered. He was grateful, reminded of how thin she had become while in his pack.

“There’s a baby,” she murmured against his neck.

“There isn’t a baby,” he soothed, almost bitterly. “There never was.”

0000000000

Sam got her back to the house and in the bathroom, He rinsed her hair out gently, her hissing the whole time. “It bled a lot worse than what it is,” he said, stepping back from inspecting her.

Leah nodded absently from her seat on the toilet and dried the ends of her hair. Sam disappeared but came back with a shirt and shorts. Dry shorts had replaced his own soaked clothing. She held up the shirt and raised an eyebrow. It was one of hers. He shrugged. “You left it.”

Along with a million other things.

Their breakup was so sudden and unexpected they never even bothered to return anything. Even after time passed, it was too painful to broach. He excused himself and busied himself in the kitchen with plates. She joined him moments later, long legs extending from below the hem of the shirt, scratches already healing. He set a plate and another beer in front of her without a word and swallowed when she pulled the blanket from her box and wrapped it around her shoulders. It was the one his mother made for their bed when they were going to move to Seattle. She shoved her food around her plate with her fork before asking, “What was that?”

Sam shook his head, staring into his plate. “This place is haunted,” he said simply.

Leah set her jaw, her thumb nail tearing at the label on her bottle. Finally she asked, “Any babies on the horizon for you and Emily?”

It was said so casually, he looked up at her with a mouthful of food and swallowed. She wouldn’t look at him. “No,” he answered, scooping up another bite. They hadn’t even had a pregnancy scare. If he was honest, he was perfectly content. He didn’t know if it was the imprint or something else. He once thought that a wolf imprinted on the person it would have the best chance at reproducing with, but now…like everything else, he just wasn’t sure. He changed the subject. “How’s work?”

Leah raised an eyebrow at the mundane question but smiled. “Work is good.”

“Seth said you work in the ER now.”

Surprised, she nodded.

She was doing everything she had said she would. Everything they planned. Leah Clearwater was infuriating and stubborn, but she kept her promises. “I’m sorry Seth is the one that called,” he said quietly. “It should’ve been me. I just…”

“It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.”

 _Not true_. “My mom loved you. You were close.”

Leah wiped a tear away and shrugged. “Honestly, Paul told me before Seth called.”

It was Sam’s turn to be surprised. “Paul?”

She shifted. “Yeah. We see each other sometimes. After Rachel died…it’s been nice to help him with Willa.”

Rachel Black had died not long after her and Paul’s daughter was born three years prior. “It’s nice to have someone from home.”

She smiled. “It is. Someone who understands.”

He nodded then asked a question that had been burning him for a long time. “Why Spokane?”

Leah twirled her fork for so long Sam didn’t think she would answer. He once thought she would settle at least in Seattle if not Port Angeles, but when the eight-hour drive to Spokane came through the rumor mill an incredibly sad _finality_ to it settled over him. She finally shrugged. “I needed to go in the opposite direction of where I though my life was going.”

There was no hesitation once she had decided because she had made a promise to Harry to go. She received the job offer and had her dad’s truck loaded up before walking through graduation. Watching her pull up to her party triumphantly waving her cap was how he imagined she felt watching him and Emily drive away after the wedding - empty and sad. Because he was the one that was supposed to be splashing through the puddles with her, honking the horn. He was supposed to have been in Seattle with her, in their first apartment. Seattle had been a hard dream for him to let go. He overheard her on long weekends home, chatting about Saturday mornings with friends at the market. It should’ve been them wandering aimlessly hand in hand, stopping for supper on rainy evenings. Saturdays were spent with Emily in their garden or at the beach, and his life was full. But in the quiet moments, echoes of another life were bittersweet. Watching Leah drive away did something to him he couldn’t explain.

“I understand.”

She cocked her head. “Are you happy?”

He took a swig from his beer. Happy, yes. Emily was beyond reproach. He loved her, he did. She eased his soul in a way no other could. They had a disagreement that morning before she left over coffee grounds. He and Leah would’ve still been muttering about it.

 _“Sometimes what you want most, isn’t what’s best for you,”_ his mother told him while he sobbed in her arms on the porch swing after breaking up with Leah.

_Then why does this still kill me, Mama?_

“I should go,” Leah said, softly before he even answered. It was probably better, safer that way.

He nodded mutely, looking out the window. The rain had let up to a light drizzle. “Can I swing by tomorrow? I’m going to see Mom. You can pay your respects properly.”

Leah swallowed and he could see she was turning the thought over in her mind. Finally, she took one last swig from her bottle and nodded. “Okay.”


End file.
